I'm Sorry
by the shampain sleeper
Summary: The second his finger pulled the trigger, he knew that he had made a terrible mistake. Modern AU. Written for NC's Bi-Monthly Tumblr Challenge.


The second his finger pulled the trigger, he knew that he had made a terrible mistake. He had made a terrible mistake because as he pulled the trigger, he could see that Hamilton was not aiming his pistol at him. Hamilton had aimed his pistol at the sky. As soon as Burr saw Hamilton aim at the sky, he wanted to take it back. He wanted to take everything back. Every insult, every argument, every jealous glare. But he couldn't take anything back now. Just like how he couldn't take back the bullet, which struck Hamilton right between the ribs.

Had Burr been angry? Yes, beyond belief. Did he believe that Hamilton intended to kill him? Also yes. He knew Hamilton better than most did. He had known him for thirty years, and he knew that when Alexander Hamilton set his mind to something, there was no stopping him. Hamilton never hesitated, never exhibited any restraint. When Burr challenged him, Hamilton had agreed without any hesitation. So naturally, when Hamilton arrived at the site of the duel with that familiar, determined glint in his eyes, Burr assumed that he intended to kill.

Now? Burr watched Hamilton fall to the ground, wishing that he could somehow undo what he had just done. He approached him, his heart threatening to beat itself out of his chest, when someone grabbed his arm. It was Van Ness. Burr tried to break free, but his friend gripped his arm harder. "Burr. We have to go." Once again, Burr tried to wrench his arm free, but Van Ness had a grip of steel. "We have to get out of here. The cops are coming."

Burr understood that they had to leave. They had to leave before they could get arrested. It only made sense, seeing as he had just shot Alexander Hamilton. Oh, God. He had just shot Alexander Hamilton.

Burr was barely aware of Van Ness dragging him away. That one moment kept playing in his head, of Hamilton raising his pistol to the sky, only to crumple to the ground a moment later. In fact, Burr was barely aware of anything for the rest of the morning. He could only think of Alexander Hamilton bleeding on the ground, looking so small and frail.

 **~000~**

Van Ness advised him to hide, so he did. For several days after the duel, Burr did not leave his rooms. He spent all of his time in quiet contemplation. His only connection to the outside world was Van Ness, who visited him every day with news. Burr had been filled with enormous relief when he learned the day following the duel that Hamilton was still alive. He was in the hospital, in critical condition. The bullet had caused severe internal damage, and it was unknown whether or not he would recover. Burr found himself surprised that he felt such alleviation when he heard that his rival wasn't dead. Only the day before he was filled with undying rage at this man, this man who had poisoned his political pursuits.

Additionally, Burr heard that he had been officially identified as the shooter. Though the laws surrounding duels in New Jersey were much more lax than the ones in New York, he still risked impeachment from his position as vice president. He didn't care. He'd never held any power in that position, Jefferson had seen to that. Hamilton's condition remained unchanged. Burr was suddenly seized with a crazy idea. He wanted to visit Hamilton in the hospital. He immediately dismissed this idea a moment later. Visitation was likely family-only, and Burr doubted very much that Hamilton's family would want him there.

Hamilton's condition remained unchanged for the rest of the week. Van Ness told Burr that keeping out of the public eye was one thing, but moping in his room wouldn't do him any good. Burr tried to work. He occasionally ventured outside. He still listened closely for any word of Hamilton.

5 days after the duel, Hamilton slipped into a coma, and was placed on life support. Again, Burr thought about visiting him, but he decided not to risk it. Another week passed. Then another. Burr grew tired of waiting for news of his rival's recovery, and he began to wonder if he would ever recover at all. He tried to throw himself into his work, but Hamilton was always on his mind.

A month after the duel, Burr received a note from Van Ness. It didn't say much.

 _Hamilton's family is planning on taking him off life support on Wednesday._

 _Just thought you should know._

 **~000~**

Burr knew that this had to be the dumbest idea he'd ever had since he challenged Alexander Hamilton to a duel, but he had to do it. As much as he hated to admit it, deep down, he knew that Hamilton would eventually succumb to his injuries one way or another. It was clear that he would never wake up from the coma. His family was doing the right thing. But still…

He had to see Hamilton. One last time.

Burr was planning on doing it alone, but he decided to tell Van Ness in the end. Burr knew full well that his friend was risking his reputation with his visits, and he was grateful to him. Van Ness, naturally, told him that he was crazy, and then proceeded to help him with his plan.

They came in Wednesday morning, early. Since visitation was family-only, there would have to be a diversion. That turned out to be simple. Van Ness pulled the fire alarm. The resulting confusion was just the window Burr needed, and he managed to get into the restricted area. Knowing full well that he had no time to lose, he quickly walked down the hallway, trying his best to look inconspicuous. He glanced at each door as he walked by, trying to find the one. Finally, at the very end of the hall, there was Hamilton's room.

His family had left the room once the alarm had been pulled. Burr opened slowly opened the door. There was a chair in the corner, and he used it to barricade the door. There was no telling how long the diversion would last.

And there he was. The great, unstoppable Alexander Hamilton, now reduced to this. Lying in the bed, he looked terrible. His skin was sickly and pale, and all sorts of needles were stuck in his body, connecting him to a multitude of loud, beeping machines in the corner. Burr felt sick to his stomach, knowing that he had done this. He had put this man here, this man who had a wife and children who needed him. This man who was to leave this world very soon.

Burr realized that he had no idea what to do now. He remembered reading somewhere that a person in a coma can still hear what people say to them. What could he say, though? What did one say to the man that he had nearly fatally shot? Burr sighed. He glanced at Hamilton again. He did look a little bit peaceful, sleeping there like that, all things considered. Burr sighed again and took a deep breath.

"Hey, Alexander." He took another deep breath. "It's me. You know, Burr." Burr knew he probably sounded stupid, but he kept going. "Last time we saw each other… It didn't end very well. But you probably know that." He laughed a little bit, in spite of himself. "You're really something else, you know? I thought… Well, I thought you were going to kill me. Or try to, at least. I think you should know that I didn't want to kill you. At least, I don't think I did. It's all kind of a blur now, to be honest."

He sighed again. "Listen, Alexander, even though you didn't endorse me, even though you said I was dangerous and a disgrace to this nation, you're my friend. I think I'll always consider you my friend, in the end. I still remember the young immigrant approaching me on the street, having heard all about me and wanting to know my secrets to success. God, you were only nineteen and you were just so energetic… I thought you talked too much and I thought you would get into serious trouble one day. But you, you just blew everyone away. Remember when we practiced law together, Alexander? You still talked too much but you were so talented. And your writing! God, how did you ever manage to write like that? Like you were running out of time? You used to write more in one day then I've ever written in my whole life and I'm not exaggerating." Burr paused to take another breath, and noticed that the fire alarm had stopped. He didn't have much time.

"Anyways, we've had our disagreements, that's for sure, and I don't doubt that you would probably punch me in the face right now if you could. But you should know that everything that I did was just because I wanted to be like you. You always knew what you wanted, and you never stopped until you got it. That's what made me change parties to run against your father-in-law, that's what made me campaign so hard for the election."

Burr jumped slightly when he heard the door. Someone tried to open it, but the chair held true. It likely wouldn't last long though. He really needed to finish up in here.

"I don't know what possessed me to take this last disagreement so far. I can't believe I _shot_ you because you didn't support me in an election. God, it all sounds so stupid now. I regret all of it. I've been regretting all of it ever since I pulled the trigger."

There were voices outside, shouts.

"I just wanted you to know that… I'm sorry. For everything." Burr stopped talking and glanced down at Alexander's sleeping form. Burr sighed, and blinked away the tears that had been forming in his eyes as he spoke. The shouts outside were getting louder. Burr leaned down, brushed a few strands of Alexander's hair out of his face, and waited for the inevitable. He expected to see the door finally get forced open, and he expected Alexander's (very angry) family to burst in. But he didn't expect what happened next. That is, Alexander's face twitched slightly, and his eyes fluttered open.

Burr felt his heart skip a beat. Alexander blinked once. Twice. His eyes surveyed the room. When his eyes met Burr's he smiled slightly. Although he couldn't speak around the ventilator, Burr could take a guess at what he was thinking.

 _Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr, sir._

 **~000~**

 **The prompt this time was Person A being unable to visit Person B in the hospital, and upon hearing that B's family planned on pulling the plug, deciding to break in to spend as much time with A as possible. Could you tell that I know absolutely nothing about hospitals? I was going to go with a sad ending, but I just love these two way too much. I've wanted to write some Hamilton for a while, so I'm pretty happy with the results.**

 **-Leo**


End file.
